


Love is a Curse

by Nandireya



Category: Voltron Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2018-12-26 21:46:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12067599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nandireya/pseuds/Nandireya
Summary: Kallura Month 2017Day NineDuty or Heart?An arranged marriage between a reluctant bride and a disinterested groom.  A young bodyguard with an overdeveloped sense of honour.  What could possibly go wrong?A prequel toMore Than Life





	1. Duty or Heart?

“I can’t believe you're making me do this.” Allura, Princess of the Kingdom of Altea lamented as she stared out her window, arms folded across her chest, for what could possibly be the last time.

“Allura…” King Alfor sighed. “My daughter…” he approached her, placed his hands on her shoulders in what he hoped was a comforting manner. “You are a princess. Born into privilege. And with that privilege comes certain responsibility.”

“I am aware of that.” She said tersely. All her life she had be raised to know what was expected of her. Her life was not her own. There were traditions. Certain expectations that she must adhere to. “But why HIM, Father? Of all the princes in all the realms, why Lotor?”

“Because there has always been unrest between his people and ours.” He turned her towards him, placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “If this union can bring peace, isn’t that worth it? Besides…” he smiled. “I hear he’s quite handsome.”

Allura pulled away from him. “There is far more to marriage than a handsome face, Father.” She said. “What about kindness…devotion…love…?”

“I know Lotor has a certain…reputation…” Alfor admitted. “But if he continues in such a way he will likely leave you to your own devices.”

“So I am to live a life without love?” She questioned.

Alfor wrapped his arms around his only child, his beloved daughter. He didn’t like this any more than she did.

“Sometimes we must set aside such things for our duty.” He whispered into her hair.

 

~~~~~~

 

Across the boarder, in the Castle of King Zarkon, ruler of the Kingdom of Galra, his son, Prince Lotor, sat bored before his gilt mirror as one of his servants ran a soft brush through his long silver hair.

“Come.” He said in response to the knock at his ornate door. It swung open silently to grant entry to several heavily armed and armoured men. He didn’t turn to greet them, instead watching them in his mirror.

One was dressed in burnished silver, Shiro, the captain of his father’s personal guard. He was a handsome man, around the same age as the prince. He wasn’t Galra, but his exploits were legendary. He had come from the gladiator pits, but his father had seen something in him and had him transferred to his infantry. He had proven himself a highly skilled warrior and brilliant strategist. From there he had risen quickly to his current position. A heavy purple cloak hung from his broad shoulders.

The other two were dressed in identical black armour, with black cloaks and black scabbards, but that was where all resemblance ended.

One was tall, he had to bend to avoid contact with the doorframe. He had a stern battle weary face. His long grey-white hair was braided, wrapped around his neck. A scar slashed the right side of his face in half. Kolivan, leader of the Blade of Mamora, an ancient order that had sworn to protect the best interest of the Crown for generations.

The other, though he wore the armour, lacked his leader’s presence. And stature. He barely reached the big man’s shoulder. His face was young, unmarred, perfect. His hair dark in stark contrast to his leader. His expression, however, mirrored the much larger Blade. The red lining of his black cloak marked him as a novice of the order.

“Keith?” A perfect eyebrow rose towards his hairline. He turned then, rising to walk towards him. “You passed the Trials?” He asked incredulously.

“The youngest ever to do so, your highness.” Kolivan informed him.

“You must be so proud.” Lotor smiled, his tone almost mocking. Though it was hard to tell with the Prince. He had always revelled in his position, always thought he was better than everyone else.

He’d known the boy all his life. He’d been around the Castle for as long as he could remember, his assigned childhood friend and sparring partner by order of his mother for some reason that he’d forgotten, or perhaps never known, despite his status as a half-breed. One parent was Galra, most likely highborn, the other, Lotor neither knew nor cared. He’d been taken in by the Blade, trained by them, all but adopted by them. And now he was officially one of them.

“But seriously.” The prince smiled, slapping him on the shoulder. “Congratulations. It must be wonderful to finally truly belong somewhere.”

“We’re about to depart for Altea, you highness.” Shiro told him.

“Ah. To escort my lovely bride.” Lotor enthused. “So I guess that means you’re on babysitting duty?” He grinned at Keith. The boy’s expression soured greatly.

“Keith has been assigned to Princess Allura as her personal bodyguard.” Kolivan confirmed.

“We felt she would be more comfortable with someone close to her own age.” Shiro added. “Someone less…”

“Enormous?” Lotor offered, looking up at the hulking form of Kolivan.

“Intimidating.” Shiro finished. “Keith is still fully capable…”

“I have no doubt.” Lotor cut him off. He smiled at the trio. “Have a good trip. Look after my intended and all that.” He waved dismissively as the trio bowed, and he turned to head back to his mirror.

 

~~~~~~

 

“Are you alright?” Shiro asked as they entered the stables. He had known Keith almost as long as the prince had and had always been a far better friend to him.

“This is not what I expected when I faced the Trials.” He said as he checked his horse. “Bodyguard to some pampered princess?” He swung up into the saddle. He sighed heavily. “Lotor's right. It really is just baby sitting.”

“Now, Keith.” Shiro placed a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You were handpicked for this assignment by Kolivan himself. It’s your sworn duty-“

“To protect the best interests of the Crown.” He finished, rolling his eyes. “I know.”

“And she’s about to become part of that Crown.” Shiro pointed out.

“Yeah, yeah.” Keith rolled his eyes.

“And who knows” Shiro shrugged. “You might actually like her.”

 

~~~~~~

 

Allura watched from her window as the Galran convoy approached. They weren’t flying any royal banners, she noted. None of the royal family had made the trek. Not even her husband-to-be seemed to think she was worthy of the effort. She bristled at the insult.

“Princess?” She turned at the knock at her door. She recognised the voice.

“You may enter, Coran.” She said softly.

“King Zarkon’s representatives have arrived.” Her father’s most trusted advisor informed her.

“But not the King himself.” She returned flatly. “Or his son.”

“It would seem not.” He sighed. “But you know the Galra. They don’t care to travel by day.”

Allura frowned. She’d thought that was merely some kind of old wives tale. That the Galra were stronger by night and shunned the day.

“Then who have they sent?” She asked.

 

~~~~~~

 

Allura sat on her royal throne beside her father as Zarkon's representatives entered the castle’s main audience chamber. There were only two, the majority of their entourage had remained outside. One was tall, all in silver, with a flowing cape of purple. The other, slightly smaller, was dressed in black, the hood of his cloak up, hiding most of his face. She sat up slightly at the sight of him. Was he Galra? Was the myth about their aversion to light actual fact?

“Your majesty.” The man in silver addressed Alfor. “Your highness.” He turned to Allura. They both bowed respectfully. “I am Shiro, captain of the guard for King Zarkon. I bring you greetings on his majesty’s behalf.” He bowed again.

He gestured to the smaller and, so far, silent man. “May I present Keith. He is of the Blade of Mamora.”

A hushed murmur rippled through the room. The order was legendary, even outside the Kingdom of Galra. Keith took a step forward and drew his namesake blade. A frightened gasp echoed around him as it shimmered into its active form. Altean guards stiffened, hands on their swords, ready to descend on the man the moment he became a threat, relaxing when he dropped to bended knee, head bowed, before their princess, the flat of the blade resting on the palms of his hands as he held it out towards her like an offering.

“He is to be the princess’s personal bodyguard.” Shiro concluded.

Alfor was a little startled. He hadn’t expected Zarkon to assign one of his most elite warriors to the protection of his daughter. It was certainly a show of utmost respect.

Allura wasn’t sure how to react. She hadn’t been schooled in this kind of eventuality. She rose and took a step towards the man kneeling before her. She stopped just short of him, where she was certain the hem of her skirts were in his line of vision.

“My blade is yours.” He said, so softly she was certain no one else could hear him. “My life is yours.”

“Thank…you…?” She replied, just as softly, not sure if that was even what she was supposed to say. But after she had spoken he raised his face to her. He was younger than she expected. She doubted he’d seen any more years than she had. And he had to be the most beautiful man she had ever seen. His eyes were the deepest shade of blue, so dark they boarded on violet. She’d never seen such eyes. She couldn’t tear her own away from the intensity of his eyes, even though she knew it was improper for any man to hold a royal’s gaze. He should lower his eyes as a show of respect. But he didn’t. And she didn’t really want him to. She gestured for him to rise, which he duly did, re-sheathing his blade as he did so, neither of them breaking eye contact.

“I’m sure you are no doubt weary after your journey.” Alfor smiled, unaware of the unspoken exchange between his daughter and her new bodyguard. “We have food and lodging arranged for you and your entourage.”

“Thank you, your majesty.” Shiro bowed his head.

“You and your companion will join us at banquet tonight.” He added.

“Of course, your majesty.” He bowed again, turning to leave. “Keith.” He called when the young Blade didn’t follow suit. Keith bowed, his eyes still locked with the princess’s, before slowly turning to follow Shiro.

Allura watched him go in a graceful swirl of cape, her fists unknowingly clenched at her sides, a strange tightness in her chest.


	2. Forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kullara Month 2017  
> Day Ten  
> Forgiveness
> 
> Allura is presented to her would-be in-laws...but things take a heartbreaking turn.

Keith had always taken life very seriously. He took his duty seriously. His training? So very seriously. His assignment as bodyguard to Princess Allura? He took that far more seriously than he thought he could. He would lay down his life to protect her. And it had nothing to do with the feeling he got in the pit of his stomach whenever she looked at him, spoke to him, was just generally near him. That he took seriously as well. He completely denied he felt anything. He had to.

She was promised to someone else.

And not just anybody. His Prince. He was a Blade of Mamora. He was sworn to protect the best interest of the Crown. His personal feelings could not enter into it.

He stood nearby as she tended the horses, a strange thing for a princess to do, he thought. Lotor wouldn’t step foot in the stables, wouldn’t lower himself to anything so menial as to groom animals. Altea was known for his horses, though. And these five were exemplary examples of their breed. Four, two greys, a buckskin and the magnificent black that was currently receiving the princess’s attention, had pulled the carriage that had brought her here. The fifth, a sleek and spirited chestnut, was King Alfor’s personal mount.

The ruddy-coloured stallion had been eyeing him ever since they’d first crossed paths back in Altea. It was quite unnerving, really. He lumbered over to him, nudging him with a snort. Keith tried to ignore him, but he just butted him again. He threw the horse a sidewards glare, only to be met with another nudge.

“Fine.” He grumbled, reaching into the folds of his cloak to retrieve the apple he had stored there for his own consumption. He offered it to the animal which pulled it from his palm with velvety lips.

Allura looked over when she heard the crunch of the sweet fruit being devoured to find Keith gently stoking the horse’s noble head.

“I’ve never seen Palgan take to anyone so easily.” She commented. “Or anyone at all, save my father.” She reached a hand out towards the stallion’s back only to have him swish his tail at her. “He is quite a fickle thing.” She glared at the horse. Palgan bared his teeth in return.

“Maybe if you didn’t refer to him as a thing.” Keith suggested.

“You may be right.” She agreed, taking a step closer to him.

“Your highness.” Coran said brightly as he entered the stables. “Your rooms have been set up, a bath drawn. You can go and get ready for your introduction to the royal family.” He stepped pointedly between her and Keith as he took the grooming brush from her hand. “I’ll finish up here.”

She lowered her head and turned away from them both. “I suppose I can’t put this off forever.” She whispered. She walked from the stables, her shoulders slumped, Keith a step behind her.

Coran watched them go with sad eyes. The bond between them had grown quickly. Though they hadn’t acted on it, though they both remained in complete denial, even if they were completely unaware of it, it was as clear as day to Coran. From his place behind King Alfor he had seen the look they’d exchanged when he had sworn his blade and his life to her. Seen it when no one else had. They’d been lost from the moment they’d first laid eyes on each other. Everyday since it had only grown deeper.

But nothing would come of it. Nothing _could_ come of it. She had been promised to Lotor, for the good of her people. And he was sworn to protect them both. From now until the end of their days they would suffer in silence, all for their sworn duty.

 

~~~~~~

 

Keith waited in Allura’s antechamber while she bathed and dressed. He wasn’t supposed to leave her side, but it wouldn’t be proper to encroach on her privacy either. There was no other way into her suite but the door he was standing by. The windows were too high, too narrow, to allow entry. His hand rested easily on the hilt of his sword. He wasn’t expecting anything, not in the castle, but he had been trained to be prepared for any eventuality.

He glanced towards her as she emerged from behind her dressing screen, several ladies-in-waiting fussing about her. He tried not to watch as the ladies began embellishing Allura’s already beautiful gown with jewels on delicate chains. They slipped on a pair of ornate earpieces of the most intricate filigree giving her an ethereal, elfin-like appearance. He had heard tell that the Alteans were descended from the fair folk, just as the Galra were from…something else. Seeing her like this he could certainly believe it.

She walked slowly towards him, her expression downcast, though she tried a smile when she saw he was looking at her. He knew it was purely for his benefit, she didn’t feel it. She didn’t want this.

He bowed, opening the door for her and followed her out. It was his duty to protect her, but there were some things he just couldn't save her from.

 

~~~~~~

 

She walked as slowly as she could to Zarkon's main audience chamber though she knew she was just delaying the inevitable. Besides, it wasn’t like Lotor was going to marry her on the spot. The wedding itself was set a week from the initial meeting. Seven days of relative freedom was all she had left.

Keith was a comforting presence by her shoulder. She wanted to reach out and take his hand, squeeze it to give her strength and just because she wanted to feel his fingers intwined with hers.

Closing her eyes she questioned again what heinous crime she had committed to offend the Fates so deeply. They had seen fit to take her mother from her when she was far too young to truly accept the loss. They had set the neighbouring kingdom against hers for some reason so that she had never known any real peace or freedom. And now they had sent her a young man that had caused her heart to beat for what seemed the first time. A gentle soul, despite his status as a warrior, who haunted her dreams and lingered in her thoughts during every waking moment. A man she could see herself happily spending the rest of her life with, so naturally he’d arrived at the exact same time she’d been promised to someone else.

There was no doubt in her mind. The Fates hated her. At least they couldn’t inflict anymore of their dark capriciousness on her.

She didn’t know how wrong she was.

 

~~~~~~

 

King Alfor, flanked by Altean guards, smiled as they approached. A smile much like the one his daughter had shown him only moments before. He reached out to touch her chin, raising her face to meet her eyes. He obviously didn’t want this any more than she did. It broke his heart to sacrifice his daughter for the sake of their people.

“Ready?” He asked. She didn’t respond.

Two hulking Galran guards opened the massive pair of doors to grant them entrance. Zarkon, Queen Honerva and Lotor were seated on the raised dais at the other end of the space, looking resplendent in their finest robes, waiting expectantly. Shiro stood at the base of the platform, close to his king, as expected. What wasn’t expected was Sendak, Shiro’s second in command, to be standing on the opposite side. That position was normally reserved for Kolivan. But for some reason he’d been excluded. In fact, the Blade of Mamora were conspicuously absent.

Alfor and his guards entered first, Allura a few step behind him, Keith a few step behind her. He frowned as the two Galra followed, closing the doors behind him. Something felt…wrong…

“King Alfor.” The Galran monarch greeted warmly as he rose from his throne. He stepped down to be on even ground, though still towered over the Altean king. “We meet at last.” He offered his hand.

Alfor looked at it for a moment before reaching out to accept it. He wasn’t expecting to be pulled forward. Straight onto the blade hidden in the other man’s robes.

“ _NO_!” Allura cried as her father was empaled. The Altean guards stepped in but were quickly dispatched.

Keith moved faster than anyone could have predicted. One arm encircled the princess’s waist as his foot lashed out to connect with the midsection of one of the guards closing in from behind while he spun them both away from the other. They ended up against the back wall on one side of the door.

He stepped in front of her, both swords drawn as Zarkon stalked toward him, his blade dripping blood. Alfor’s blood. He shifted slightly in an attempt to shield Allura from the deranged king and the sight of her father.

“Step aside, boy.” Zarkon growled. Keith’s eyes flicked from him to Lotor, now also approaching with his weapon drawn, to Sendak, also ready for the slaughter, to the guards.

“I can’t.” He said, cursing the slight tremble in his voice. There had to be some way out of here, but the odds were against him. Against them both. “I’m sworn to protect her.”

“You are also sworn to the Crown.” Zarkon pointed out. “And the Crown is telling you to step aside!”

“You can’t do both.” Lotor added as Keith still didn’t move. “Make a choice!”

“He already has.”

All eyes turned to Queen Honerva as she stepped around from behind her son. “He won’t betray her.” She smiled as she glided up to the pair. She glanced from one to the other before looking over her shoulder.

“He’s in love with her.” She announced.

Lotor threw back his head and laughed, a cruel, mocking thing. “Oh, Keith.” He wiped a tear from his eye. “You always were such an amusing creature.” He tilted his head to look at the woman behind him. “Do you honestly think a pathetic little halfbreed like you has a chance with a princess?”

Keith didn’t takes his eyes off the threat in front if him, didn’t let anything show on his face, but he felt like he’d been physically struck in the stomach.

“Enough of this.” Zarkon growled. He raised his sword. Keith brought his up to parry, but it wasn’t his that met the king’s.

“Go.” Kolivan said tonelessly, eyes and weapon locked with Zarkon’s.

More black-clad warriors appeared, forming a wall before him.

“Take the princess and go.” Kolivan repeated tersely, as if annoyed he had to repeat himself.

He sheathed one sword so he could take Allura’s arm and followed his leader’s command.

Allura was speechless as he pulled them into a sprint. He couldn't fault her for that. So much had happened so quickly. He was feeling quite numb himself. At least she was able to keep up with him. They had to get out of the castle, out the kingdom. For that, they would need transport. He hoped Coran was still at the stables.

They had just about made it when Shiro stepped out in front of them, sword drawn. Keith brought his up as he pushed the princess behind him.

“Keith. Don’t do this.” He implored. “You know what it’ll mean.”

“I have to, Shiro.” He said, inching slowly around his friend towards the entry to the stables.

“If you don’t, we’ll have no choice but to hunt you down.” Shiro told him, pain etched into his face. “You’ll be as good as dead.”

“I go back and we will be!” Keith retorted, eyes shifting, looking for some way around the man without bringing lasting harm to him.

“Keith…” Shiro began, shaking his head.

“Sorry about this.” Keith whispered. He lashed out with a savage kick before Shiro could respond, knocking out a thin support strut that was holding up one end of the hayloft. He was the only one of the three to not look up at the soft groaning creak of wood as the weighted panel titled and gave way, dumping pile upon pile of dried fodder down to bury the purple-cloaked knight.

“Keith!” Shiro’s muffled voice reached his ears as he took Allura’s hand and hastened into the stables. “You’re signing your own death warrant!”

Coran rose from where he’d just finished fastening Palgan girth strap. His eyes met Keith’s. He’d obviously heard what had passed outside and prepared the horse for their escape as quickly as possible.

“Alfor?” He asked. Keith lowered his eyes and Allura stifled a sob. He let out a deep sigh, lowering his head in his grief. He clamped a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Go.” He said. “Protect her.”

“You know I will.” He said with total conviction.

“You need to get out of here too, Coran.” Allura said as Keith helped her up onto the stallion’s back.

“As soon as I hitch the horses I’ll be right behind you.” He assured her.

 

~~~~~~

 

Keith pushed Palgan as hard and as fast as he dared. Even carrying two people the chestnut stallion outstripped everything Zarkon sent after them. He’d never encountered a horse that could move so fast. Allura was cradled against his chest, arms wrapped around him, burrowing in like a lost child. He wanted to comfort her, but he dare not stop.

Finally, when the sun began to fade from the sky, when he could feel Palgan begin to falter, he looked for somewhere for them to rest. They needed somewhere sheltered, defensible, somewhere out of sight. He wasn’t sure where they were, they had been running blind. The terrain was rocky, heavy with trees, making it hard for Palgan, and therefore any pursuers, to make any progress.

He found a cave, small, but large enough to house both them and the horse. Palgan’s hooves echoed dully against the rocky floor, his snorting breath seemed overly loud to Keith’s ears.

“Princess?” He rubbed her back to awaken her from where she had finally dozed against him. She looked up at him with tear-stained eyes. “We’ll rest here for the night.” She nodded. He dismounted and helped her to the ground.

“Will you be alright if I go and collect some wood for a fire?” He asked. It was risky, but the night would be cold once the sun was fully gone. She nodded numbly.

By the time he returned with an armful of dried branches and some wild berries he’d managed to scrounge she had moved from her spot on the ground to begin wiping down the horse. She continued while he set about lighting the fire.

They worked in silence, neither sure as to what to say to the other. Finally when both had competed their task, they sat together, enjoying the fire’s warmth. Palgan lowered himself to the ground, putting himself between the flames and the mouth of the cave, effectively diminishing the amount of light that could escape into the darkness.

He placed the berries he’d found onto a flat leaf he’d collected as well, pushing them towards her.

“Is what she said true?” Allura said, breaking the silence that had settled between them. “The Queen?”

He glanced at her with wide, almost guilty eyes before quickly looking away. He had thought, hoped really, that she hadn’t heard that. But how could she have not? Especially when Lotor has mocked him so mercilessly.

“Forgive me.” He whispered.

“For what?” She asked. “Loving me?”

Keith sighed deeply. “You are a princess, heir to a great kingdom.” He said. “I am a halfbreed nobody.” He hung his head. “I am not worthy. You deserve…” he faulted. Who did she deserve? He wouldn’t wish Lotor on her, he knew the man far too well. But there were plenty of others out there, strong, noble and pure.

“Someone better than me.” He finished.

She looked at him for a long moment, the only sound the crackling of the fire. He looked so forlorn. He truly believed what that obnoxious, silver-haired rapscallion had said. That he was beneath her.

“Keith…” she began. “I’m afraid I can’t forgive you.” She saw him tense for a moment. “To do so I would have to believe that you had made some kind of transgression against me.”

She moved closer to him, gently touching his chin, working to lift his head so she could look him in the eye, but he stubbornly refused to do so.

“I cannot forgive you.” She explained. “Because you have done nothing requiring forgiveness.”

She smiled.

“Besides, if loving someone considered not equal to your station was considered a crime, I would be equally guilty.”

He rose his eyes then, a mixture of shock and hope swimming in their dark depths. She curled her hands around his neck, pulling him closer to her to rest her forehead against his.


	3. Fantasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kallura Month 2017  
> Day 11  
> Fantasy
> 
> Honerva makes plans for a suitable punishment as Keith and Allura grow closer...

To say Honerva was annoyed was a gross understatement.

Castle staff quickly moved out of her path as she stormed down the hallways to her private suite. Outside there was a distant rumble as if the heavens themselves reflected her mood.

“Out!” She snapped at her servants as she slammed into her room. They hastened out quickly, closing the heavy doors behind them. They were accustomed to her moods. She was well aware of the rumours that surrounded her. About how she dabbled with dark powers.

They had no idea how right they were.

She pulled aside a decorative drape and placed her hand against the stone wall that had been hidden beneath it. There was the scrapping of stone against stone as the wall opened before her.

She swept into the hidden room, part lab, part lair. She passed a quick eye over the vials, pots and cauldrons that were bubbling away as she made for the oversized book that sat in pride of place at the far end of the cluttered space. She let out an angry snort as she flipped the pages in the massive tome.

She had been making her plans for decades now. Ever since Alfor’s daughter had been born. Zarkon had been eyeing the resource-rich Altea for longer than that insipid little girl had been alive. Galra had always been a dry and inhospitable place, it was one of the reasons its people were so strong and tough, they had to be to survive. They raided smaller kingdoms, conquered them, demanded tribute for their…protection. It was impossible for them to fight back against the Galra’s dark magiks. They didn’t have the means.

But Altea. So lush and green and teaming with life. It was bigger, stronger. It had magics of its own. Its people, so loyal to their king, continually beat them back. Honerva knew they had to use a different tactic than a show of brut force.

She had sent in spies, those who could pass unnoticed amongst the general populace. They all reported back that the Alteans were not, by nature, a violent people. They fought only to protect what was theirs, but they wanted peace.

So Zarkon had offered it to them, at her suggestion. A political alliance, unification of their kingdoms by uniting their royal offspring in marriage. She wasn’t surprised when Alfor agreed. He would do anything for peace, even sacrifice his daughter.

By binding her to Lotor, her son would become rightful heir to both kingdoms. The Alteans could not argue the point, they would honour their king. They had been so close to a peaceful, totally legal takeover, but Zarkon, her foolishly impatient, stupid lump of a husband had been unable to stay his hand. Decades of planning had been for nothing because he couldn’t wait one more week.

Yes, Alfor had to die. She had planned it. A subtle, slow-term poisoning. An untraceable, natural looking death that would not be blamed on them. And this would have occurred _AFTER_ his daughter had become Lotor’s bride. Then, of course, a little…accident…would have been arranged for the princess. And Altea would have been theirs.

But now Alfor was dead, slain by Zarkon’s own hand, and his daughter, a witness to the assassination, had escaped in the company of a young Blade of Mamora, an order whose code of honour was beyond reproach, even outside their boarders. A boy who would protect her with his life.

The boy….complicated matters. She had no qualms with killing the girl, but she needed him alive. All her divinations, all her scryings, all signs and indications pointed to there being something special about him. Though her readings failed to tell her exactly what, in her bones she knew it was for the betterment of Galra. It was why she had insisted on keeping him close, so she could keep an eye on him.

It was Kolivan who had found him, a tiny infant, quiet and sullen even then. She suspected he knew more about the child than he let on, but she knew better than to press him. Kolivan kept an equally close eye on the boy and had insisted on inducting him into the Blade of Mamora as soon as his warrior prowess emerged.

So she had to allow him to live. Him and his new-found love it would seem. She had looked into their eyes, seen their hearts. She could not destroy one without destroying the other. They would both have to live. But that didn't mean they couldn’t suffer.

“Mother!”

She looked up from her book as her petulant child entered.

“What is it, Lotor?” She asked flatly, returning to her scanning, pointedly turning a musty page.

“The King’s Guard are hopeless.” He snarled. “They can find no sign of them. How can they possibly hide like this?”

“He is a Blade of Mamora.” She pointed out. “He is adept at such things.” She turned another page, running a finger along the text. “And I seriously doubt our Captain’s heart is truly in the chase.” Shiro actually cared for the boy, looked at him as kin, a younger brother in all but blood. If Kolivan hadn’t laid claim on him she had no doubt the man would have taken him under his wing, trained him to be one of the King’s Guard.

“Are we surrounded by traitors?” Lotor spat. “Those black clad bastards turned on us easily enough.”

“They were protecting one of their own.” Honerva said calmly.

“Just who’s side are you on, Mother!?” He demanded.

She looked up at him, her eyes cold. “Do not question my loyalty, boy.” She hissed. “Your father created this mess. And now it falls to me to clean it up.”

“All you need to do is help me find them.” He gestured about the room. “Surely you have something here to do some kind of locator spell or something.” He leaned across the book, blocking her reading in his attempt to be intimidating. “Just find them and I will kill them!”

“Kill _them_?” She echoed.

“Fine.” He pouted. “Just him then.”

“Don’t pretend you care about the girl.” She levelled her gaze at him. “You’re just annoyed that she chose him over you.” She shook her head. “You never did like to share your toys.”

“She is promised to me!” He bristled.

“Calm yourself, my son.” She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “We’re not going to kill either of them.” She told him. “But that doesn't mean they’re not going to be punished.”

“Punished?” He arced a perfect brow. “I suppose I can live with punished.” _‘For now.’_ He added to himself.

“But I will need something of them.” She frowned as she ran a finger across the page before her.

“What?” He frowned. “Like a shoe or a piece of jewellery?”

“Not of _THEIRS_. Of _THEM_.” She corrected. “A strand of hair. A drop of blood. Something of their body.”

Lotor curled his lip in disgust.

“They left quite abruptly.” She said. “Check her rooms, his quarters. Hair brushes, shavers, unwashed clothing. Bring me something they have used. It should hold what we need.”

 

~~~~~~

 

Allura looked up as another rumble of thunder echoed overhead. The storm was getting closer, they should really be looking for shelter before the storm broke.

She turned her attention back to Keith who was leaning heavily against a tree, staring off into the middle distance. He’d been silent ever since they’d escaped the three-man ambush. He had defeated the trio easily enough, after telling her to take cover. She hadn’t actually seen the battle, only heard it, but in order to keep them safe he had been forced to kill them. He couldn’t let them report back to Zarkon with their current whereabouts. It obviously weighed heavily on him, they had been allies once.

As she took a step towards him he took in a shuddering breath and put a hand to his side.

“Are you hurt?” She was immediately beside him.

“It’s just a scratch.” He assured her as she bustled about him, pulling his arm aside. He hissed as she pressed her hand against him. Her hand came away stained red.

“Just a scratch?” She brandished her hand at him.

“I’ve had worse.” He shrugged, regretting the action immediately as it shifted the muscles in his side and aggravated the injury.

“Come on.” She took his other arm. “We need to find shelter and tend to this.”

 

~~~~~~

 

The heavens opened up before they came across the long disused barn. At least it appeared to be a barn. It was a large space, mostly reclaimed by the forest, but the greenery helped to keep out the rain.

Allura eased Keith down against a fallen roof beam on the moss covered floor. She examined his armour. It consisted of various overlapping pieces of leather and metal. She had to remove it in order to tend to his injury but she had no idea how to begin removing it.

“How do you…?” She began, looking to him for guidance and finding a rather amused look on his face. She pouted and folded her arms across her chest. “Well excuse me for not being aware of the finer points of armour construction.” She snorted.

Still smiling he reached out to take her hand. “First you need to remove the pauldrons…the shoulder pieces…” he explained as he guided her hands to help him pull the mentioned pieces of armour off over his head. “That’ll give you access to the buckles on my…chest…plate…”

She had leaned in so close as he tutored her in the art of armour removal. Several strands of her long, silvery hair were adhered to her skin from the downpour that had drenched them both before they’d found their temporary sanctuary. He reached out to brush one away from her eyes.

“You’re soaking wet.” He noted, his knuckles still brushing her soft skin.

“We both are.” She returned, her hands stilled on the toughened leather on his chest.

“We really should do something about that.” He said. “Before we get the chills…”

“But…you’re injured…” she whispered, not protesting at all as his hand slid from her cheek to curl around her neck.

“I told you…” he breathed, angling his head to complement hers. “It’s just a scratch…”

They didn’t think much about anything after that.

For a while, at least.

“We can’t do this.” Keith said softly, lowering his eyes as he turned away. The only thing offering them any kind of modesty now was his cloak. Thick, warm and mostly waterproof it was the only article of clothing that had survived a drenching during their time in the storm. The rest of their attire had been tossed haphazardly about them. It really should be hung up to dry properly.

Allura draped an arm over him from behind, placing a gentle kiss on the vivid scar on his shoulder. She had been startled when it had first been revealed. The injury that had left it must have been gruesome indeed. He hadn’t been lying when he said he’d had worse.

“Can’t do what?” She whispered into his neck, her fingers trailing down his side to brush the roughly bandaged cut on his side. It really had been little more than a scratch and had already stopped bleeding by the time that regained enough presence of mind to actually tend to it.

“This.” He took hold of her hand but was reluctant to pull it away. “You’re promised to someone else.”

Allura bristled slightly. His code of honour was one of the many things she loved about him, but it was often so misplaced. His order were sworn to protect and serve a family not worthy of their dedication.

“I made no promise.” She said tersely, pulling back. “And he lost any claim he had when his father slaughtered mine!” She scrubbed savagely at the tears that sprang to her eyes at the most painful of memories.

She reached over to pull him closer, stroking his cheek, waiting until he met her gaze.

“My heart, my body, my soul.” She smiled softly. “They are mine to give to whoever I chose.” She pillowed her head on his chest, listening to his heart, the soothing calm of his breathing. She raised her head to look at him again, absently tracing the scar.

“And if I were to live for ten thousand years, I would always choose to give them to you.”

“Just as my blade and my life will alway be yours.” He said solemnly, running his fingers through her hair.

There was no one to hear their promise to each other, no priest to officiate, not a single soul to bare witness to the vows they exchanged. But to them, a bond had been created that could never be broken.

“I know our life will be hard.” She sighed. “I know we will never know true peace. But let us hold to our fantasy of a perfect life for as long as we can. The real world will intrude on us soon enough.”


	4. Kidnapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kallura Month  
> Day Twelve  
> Kidnapped
> 
> Keith and Allura find brief respite...and possibly some new friends...

Allura smiled as she snuggled up against Keith’s back. They had pretty much ridden together like this since they’d left Zarkon's castle, but it felt different now. Somehow more intimate. She gazed up at the early morning sun as it danced through the forest canopy, warm and bright after last night’s storm.

She looked down at her gown. It had never been the best choice for travelling attire, but then, they hadn’t actually been given any sort of time to pick out a suitable ensemble for going on the run. And the rain had treated it rather poorly. Silk, organza and lace didn’t fair well in torrential downpours it would seem. It was quite a mess.

His attire had survived quite well, but then, it had been far more sensible to begin with. But it was also very obvious. Jet black with bright bluish-purple highlights that almost seemed to glow? Not exactly useful for blending in.

It would seem they could both use a change of wardrobe.

“How well do you know this area?” She asked.

“Why?” He frowned as he looked back over his shoulder at her.

“I think it would be a good idea if we were to find a market or something.” She said. “Somewhere we could get some supplies. Some food. A change of clothes…”

“Clothes?” He questioned. He glanced down, his eyes lingering a little longer than they used to. “I suppose that gown is in a bit of disrepair.” He admitted.

“And your attire is kind of obvious.” She added. “Plus I can’t imagine it's all that comfortable to be dressed in armour all the time.”

Keith was actually quite accustomed to wearing his armour. It probably looked quite bulky and cumbersome to outsiders but it had been designed as much for freedom of movement as it was for protection. But he couldn’t deny that it did make him stand out. And it wasn’t just clothes they needed. It was a risk, but one worth taking. But there was one problem.

“How are we going to pay, though?” He asked. “I have a few coins…”

He stopped as she held out her hand, the elfin ear decorations sitting on her palm. He looked at them and then at her. Shaking his head he curled her fingers over them with his own hand.

“You can’t.” He said. “They’re like your heritage.”

“Our lives are more important.”

 

~~~~~~

 

Keith slowed Palgan when he caught the scent of cooking meat. Cooking meat mixed with ale. A tavern. Not the proper place for a princess. But a tavern meant people, and people meant information. And possibly trouble. Taverns attracted less than reputable individuals. And he had no doubt that some kind of reward had been posted for them by now.

“It would probably be best if you waited here with Palgan.” He said as he led the horse into the adjoining stable. “These places can get kind of rough.”

A pair of large draught horses occupied a large stall at the very back of the space. He guessed they belonged to the establishment. There were three other horses, fairly small and scruffy looking, not the kind of well tended creatures the Galra rode. He had to assume there were none of Zarkon’s troops pausing for a drink. It would seem to be safe to enter.

“Now,” he began. “I will go-“

“No.” She cut him off with a sharp shake of her head.

“Allura…” he warned.

“If we are discovered I will be far safer at your side.” She said adamantly.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. She was not wrong, but he still didn't like the idea of taking her into a country tavern.

“Fine.” He conceded. “But we’ll have to make you look a little less…” he looked down at her gown. Even damaged by the storm and their endless days of travelling it was clearly high quality. “…obvious.”

He unfastened his cloak and swirled it from his shoulders to hers, fastening it at her throat. He pulled the hood up to cover her silvery hair. It was not a colour commonly seen in the young and would certainly draw attention. He briefly considered leaving his armour behind, but his linen undershirt was still stained with blood from his battle of the day before and could raise just as many questions.

“We’ll be back shortly.” He assured the horse before offering his arm to lead her to the tavern itself. She opted to twine her fingers through his instead.

Fortunately the bar was mostly empty. It was still quite early in the day. An older woman looked up as they entered, smiling warmly, as a younger woman approached them. She was tall, taller than Keith, with bright eyes and an easy smile. He knew their race. They were Balmerans, a people often used by the Galra as a labour force due to their large size and exceptional strength. They were not treated well. Truthfully, they were little more than slaves.

“Welcome.” She said. “What can I get-“

“Hold!” Another appeared. He was much less welcoming in tone and expression. “We do not want these ones here.”

“But, brother-“

“Have you not read the missive, Shay!?” He gestured to a piece of parchment attached to a board by the door. “This one is wanted for kidnapping.” He glowered down at Keith. “We do not need you bringing woe upon us. You should-“

“And just who is _this one_ accused of kidnapping?” Allura demanded, raising up on her toes to meet the young man’s eyes.

“I believe that would be you.” Keith said softly, looking away from the parchment. A description of him, another of her. Both were to be taken alive, preferably unharmed. He hated to think what that actually meant.

“It would seem kidnapped is not the correct term.” None had heard the elderly Balmeran approach. Leaning heavily on a walking stick she looked from one to the other. “Absconded would perhaps be a more fitting one?” She suggested. Her eyes came to rest on their joined hands. “Or even…eloped?”

“Grandmother…” the man began.

“Hush, Dax.” She shushed. “There are few who know better than us how the Galra will twist their wordings to justify their poor treatment of others.” She smiled at them. “We will help you in any way we can.” She ushered the pair around the bar to a staircase.

“You will bring the wrath of the Galra upon us if they learn of this.” Dax protested.

“Then remain here and make certain that they do not.” She responded. “Shay and I will attend our guests.”

 

~~~~~~

 

“I must apologise for my grandson’s words.” She smiled as she passed Keith a mug of warm mead once they had settled in what turned out to be their private quarters above the tavern.

“There’s no need.” Keith shook his head. “He’s just concerned for your safety. It’s not wise for you to have us here. The longer we remain, the more danger we put you in. We won't linger.”

She nodded her appreciation as she eased herself into the chair opposite him.

“So, what is the true story?” She asked. “You obviously have not kidnapped her.”

“He saved me.”

Allura entered the main living area from one of the adjoining rooms, dressed far more simply in a linen blouse, skirt and leggings. Her hair was braided, hidden under the traditional head scarf of the Balmeran people, though a few wisps escaped to frame her beautiful face. Despite her lack of finery she was still the most stunning creature Keith had ever laid eyes on.

“Saved you from what, princess?” Shay asked. The Altean crown had always treated her people kindly. It was only proper for her to show its heir the respect due to her.

“From a loveless shame of an arranged marriage.” She replied as she moved to sit beside Keith. “To the son of the monster who slew my father.”

The Balmerans exchanged a horrified look.

“King Alfor is dead?” Shay gasped in disbelief. She looked to her grandmother as Keith looked to Allura, each reaching out to take the others hand, seeking and offering support.

“I knew their words rang false.” The elder shook her head. “I knew there was a great darkness in Zarkon. But this?”

 

~~~~~~

 

Honerva slipped from her small dappled mare, crouching down to trace the hoof print in the damp soil. The storm had washed away so much, made their trail difficult to follow. It was small wonder that her husband’s best and brightest couldn’t determine it.

The boy was smart, keeping to the woods, off the roads and easy travelled paths. The royal guards horses with their battle armour and over-sized riders could never transverse these ways, they could never fit between the trees. It was why she’d come out on her own. She could move so much more easily, and there was nothing in the woods that could harm her, except maybe the boy himself. But she doubted his code would allow him to raise his blade to an unarmed, defenceless woman.

A wicked smile curled her lips. Men of honour could be so stupid.


End file.
